Then the fight began. It lasted two hours--with fifteen minutes off
for lunch. It was awful. The men grappled with one another, kicked
one another from behind, slapped one another across the face, and in
many cases completely lost their temper and tried to bite one another.
I noticed one gigantic fellow brandishing a knotted towel, and
striking right and left among our men, until Captain Bilge rushed at
him and struck him flat across the mouth with a banana skin.

At the end of two hours, by mutual consent, the fight was declared a
draw. The points standing at sixty-one and a half against sixty-two.

The ships were unlashed, and with three cheers from each crew, were
headed on their way.

"Now, then," said the Captain to me aside, "let us see how many of
the crew are sufficiently exhausted to be thrown overboard."

He went below. In a few minutes he re-appeared, his face deadly pale.
"Blowhard," he said, "the ship is sinking. One of the pirates (sheer
accident, of course, I blame no one) has kicked a hole in the side.
Let us sound the well."

We put our ear to the ship's well. It sounded like water.

The men were put to the pumps and worked with the frenzied effort
which only those who have been drowned in a sinking ship can
understand.

At six p.m. the well marked one half an inch of water, at nightfall
three-quarters of an inch, and at daybreak, after a night of